


Naval Echoes

by Linorien



Series: 007 Fest 2020 [29]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/pseuds/Linorien
Summary: A new enemy approaches and it bears a familiar name. One of James Bond's former cover names.
Series: 007 Fest 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810804
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	Naval Echoes

When James Bond walked into the office Tuesday morning, he was stopped by the double-oh secretary. 

“James?” Loela called as he walked past her door. He paused and walked in. “There’ll be an email for you but you have a meeting with some higher ups tomorrow afternoon that you cannot miss. I was instructed to make sure you knew.”

Strange. He didn’t usually get summoned to meetings unless there was a mission coming up and even then it was usually a meeting with Tanner and some staff from the Intelligence branch. “Know anything about the meeting?” he asked. 

“Only that it coincides with an official visit from the First Sea Lord. But that’s only office gossip.”

“You know I love your office gossip.”

“No, you love the Japanese sweets I keep in my desk drawer.” 

Bond laughed. “You figured me out. What’s on offer today?”

She leaned down and spun the dials to unlock her drawer. “You’re lucky, I got a new box from my friend today.” She lifted out a small bowl. “We’ve got mochi puffs, strawberry kit kats, candied yuzu peels.”

Bond grabbed one of each and continued to his office. He opened his email and saw the message Loela was referring to. 

He whistled low. It really was the higher ups. The First Sea Lord, the Chief of Staff Information Warfare, and the Flag Officer of Maritime Reserves. Not to mention M, and Q. The email did not contain any information on the purpose of the meeting, just a note that it would be in a private club room of Blades and dinner would be provided. His stomach rumbled in anticipation. He’d missed the renewal period this year due to a mission and was not currently a member. He missed the lobster and steak dinners. 

* * *

He arrived a few minutes early to the club and was immediately welcomed and ushered into the back by the old doorman Stuart. It was good to know he hadn’t been forgotten. 

M and the Naval staff were already there, quietly chatting and enjoying some drinks. Bond knew their ranks by their uniform, but he was surprised to recognise an old friend among their number. 

“Captain Felicity! What an unexpected surprise,” Bond greeted. “It seems a missed a promotion or two.”

She laughed and shook his hand warmly. “James, its good to see you. And it is Admiral Felicity now. Flag Officer comes with some benefits. “You may also remember Clarence here.”

The Chief of Staff shook his head. “I think I knew you only through your file. Promoted after you left.”

More drinks were brought as Bond and Felicity traded old memories while the others chimed in with questions. It seemed falsely cheerful and Bond had a feeling the higher ups had requested Blades as a meeting spot to inject some levity. 

The door opened again and Q entered. As always, it was strange to see him out of his cardigans, but he wore the brass buttons well. And judging by his damp hair, it had begun to rain.

“Terribly sorry,” he apologized. “Minor disaster in the robotics lab needed all hands on deck. I came as soon as I could.”

“Should I be concerned, Q?”

“No, no, it's fine,” he replied in a not too reassuring voice. “I don’t want to distract from our current meeting.”

The current meeting, as it turned out, was to discuss some troubling arms deals. Missiles and automatic firearms in addition to a few state of the art long-distance, sonic weapons designed to be mounted on ships. The weapon ammassing was worrying and so was the illegality of these weapons. 

“They are being modified to look like satellite dishes,” Q said. “But the details on the dark net reveal that these are sonic agitators are improved models of what we were designing in the nineties. The engineering has come a long way and if the sellers are to be believed, these are a serious threat.”

The First Sea Lord nodded. “Our own engineers are working on countermeasures for these devices, but we hope to find the seller and the manufacturer and stop them at the source.” 

This must be why Bond was here. “What leads do you have? Where are you sending me?”

“Nowhere just yet,” Felicity said. “Do you remember our mission on the  _ HMS Churchill _ ?”

That had been years ago. He and Felicity had been partners on a mission to discover the link in a smuggling chain aboard the  _ Churchill _ . They had been undercover as sailors who’s been sentenced to three months of janitorial duty on the  _ Churchill _ while their own ship was on shore leave. He remembered feeling humiliated and hating the mission. Looking back, it was practically a breeze. Hardly any reinventing of his backstory, just a changed name and a false list of crimes to remember while he tried to find an in. “Sure. Why?”

“The seller is using your cover identity from that mission.”

Bond didn’t know what to say. 

Clarence spoke instead. “At the end of your mission we kept up appearances with that identity for a while in case you needed to use it again. But when you made Commander we retired it. Missing at sea.”

“And if someone is using that identity, it rings some bells,” Felicity finished. 

“Are you sure? Jason Baker is an unremarkable name. And if you filed a lost at sea report, perhaps they were just hoping to assume any random sailor’s identity.”

“I wish it was that simple,” Q said. “But all signs point to them knowing this was a cover name. They have not tried to add a detailed backstory, but have instead changed nothing. I’m concerned its a trap for us. Either someone else realises its the name of a sailor and thinks the UK is investing in these weapons in secret, or your old cover will be blown and that attention could endanger you currently.”

M added, “I know you have a habit of being a gentleman to your targets, but they usually wind up dead. I’d rather they didn’t know everything about you before the missions start.”

James Bond ate his lobster and reflected that he had enjoyed the beginning of the meeting much more. “Understood. So what do we do?”


End file.
